And all the living will die alone, in a coffin so dark only spirits can roam.
Josepha Castro
The coffin is the unierse way of saying we’ve made a device to prove we’ll all die eventually and that only god knows when and where, but we all know i’ll be waiting for us to bring us underground, possibly to above the clouds, but how would i no that right? i just live here on earth, alive, not near death, not near anything not. This is Death, life and Living right?
Sam
I see the coffin sitting there. Not knowing what to think I climb into it and close it. I stay in there for several minutes in the complete darkness, pondering…death itself. What if hell is that you wake up in your coffin and can’t get out?
C-Man
Love is watching someone die
-“What Sarah Said” by Deatch Cab For Cutie
when i hear the word coffin, i immediately think of death, and this is one of my favourite lines from a song, so it kinda fit.
rachel
oh lord, where to start? this is where my body will spend more time than any other place that it has ever spent. it will know every knot in the wood, every nail, every grain of dirt clinging to the top, yet it will know nothing below it. why is it that we are buried facing up?
ALEX
death is such a thing that people freak about sometimes. some hate it, some accept it. in either case, its a part of life that just has to happen. i would like to think that i accept it, and that i’m not really afraid of it. i live life like it’s my last, because you never know if it will be.
Kyle
the coffin, my coffin was there mahogany wood with a fleur de lis on the lid. it was amazing. if i were still alive i would have picked it for myself. he loved me so much and he knew me so well, for the coffin was perfect. me inside, though, made him extremely sad. i wished it wasn’t so.
Lydia
 Coffins are unfeeling, emotionless. Unable to decipher good, bad, rich or poor. there’s no bargaining, no extra credit, no second chances to correct or amend. An abyss.
No hopes. No dreams. Your storys been written. The universe said pencils down, the test is over. you’re to be judged by others, never knowing your final grade.
John J. Garvey
A dark, musty place where the victims of countless unnamed evils are sent to meet their doom. Who knows what lurks beneath the floors of the mortal world. A coffin is dark, a coffin is bleak, a celar of misery and despair that leaks pain, drips hatred and suffering. But a coffin is not the end. A coffin is the beginning…
Merlie
In the warm night air he curled himself into a ball inside her bosom
long red hair tangled in heartstrings
she hummed him to sleep
and he could feel it murmur in his sternum
‘love love love’
Cate Black
Death. Rain all around me. i’m so Scared. Why Am I here waiting for the next moment to go by so that I can here your voice again. I miss you so much already and yet. I’m still trying to believe it. to take it in. Wow… it’s so new to me, you being gone.
Andre DeCollibus
Death. Rain all around me. i’m so Scared. Why Am I here waiting for the next moment to go by so that I can here your voice again. I miss you so much already and yet. I’m still trying to believe it. to take it in. Wow… it’s so new to me, you being gone.
Andre DeCollibus
Dead. The end.
Coffin.
My bed.
For my final sleep.
Not to wake up to find another day ahead of me.
Peace at last.
Forever. And ever.
Sowmiya
Coffins make me thing sad thoughts about death and what was and what could have been. What happened to that person in their life, where have they been, what were their values?
Kelsey
vampires and dark rooms and dungens and bats and scooby doo mansions. red velvet and black painted wood and deppresion
Molly
That makes me scareed and nervous. I cant believe i got that word. ewwww. praise God from whom all blessings flow. God please be with me. <3
Angela
It was rather difficult to breathe in a coffin. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to be able to breathe anyhow – dead putting something of a damper on breathability. However, he often forgot this. Suspension of breath is a tough thing to remember to do, especially when playing dead in a solid, oak casket. It was cold down here, too; the other children must have given up searching for him. His breath frosted against the lid of his tomb and he hoped that they’d shout their failure soon, or he might actually die there. Now, that wasn’t something he wanted to think about. So he didn’t.
Rachel
a moment of silence pls…
DnizG
Coffin shopping was like an oxymoron.
Shopping implied something fun, getting something new, an activity to do with friends. The whole experience was fun. Going to the mall, trying things on, going into every store you see.
But coffin shopping was different.
It was kind of like jumbo shrimp.
Coffin shopping.
josebachachicken
makes me think about death but that’s not the point. I have no time to think about that,I’m too busy trying to make my life work. I have three roommates who don’t take me seriously and i have a shitty job that I cant lose or else I will have no place to live. I cant think past tomorrow, because today is too important. I have no idea what I’m going to do if I fail at this, but that’s not the point either. I have to try. I refuse to let the fear of failure stop me from living, and more importantly, enjoying my life. I have to try, or else I will have nothing to admire about my own life. Because as scared as I am of failing and falling and having no place to live, I am more afraid of the fact that i may never be proud of anything in my life. And living on your own and making your life work when everything in the world tries to stop you is more impressive than any amount of money, any number of friends, or any prize that the world has to offer. I feel like i have no choice but to move forward. I cant give up, I refuse to. I want this. I want my own life. I will not give up on the idea. There is nothing you can do to make me. If you try to stop me I will put you down just like every other challenge that i have come across in the past.
John Melendez
It is never a part of our lives and we never took any care to arrange for it; but then it is in that we are going to live our lives after our death.
Rajeesh
As I looked at the white plastic casing that held my cousin, I thought about how beautiful she was when she was living, and how she didn’t look the same in death. Her lips painted on, her eye’s closed like she was sleeping, the rest of the casing adorned with pictures of the Virgin Mary and her cheerleader attire.
Jessica
I can’t help but to see the word coffin and think of my niece’s funeral when I was nine. She was five months old. This is not fiction. Her parents were sixteen and seventeen. Her father’s now in prison. I wonder if the two are connected?
Callan
And again, I cannot breathe, but I do not find the strength to scratch out of this hell. Instead, I remain motionless, attempting to decide just how much time I should give myself to determine whether the world on the other side is worth it.
Elea A.
So i was sitting in the church, trying to keep the tears from running down my face. It wasn’t as if i knew her that well… but i guess that is why it made it so sad. I never took the time to talk to her, just took for granted that she would always be there. So i stared at the white coffin, looked so pure, but so deadly and knew that i would never feel the bone crushing hug of my granma ever again.
kasyn
My Mother always said that she liked the way that my Father tied his ties. He did it differently than anyone else she had ever seen – in reverse, kind of hard to understand, she always said. But he looked different this day, he wasn’t himself, his tie was tied in the regular fashion. She cried as they closed his coffin; her man was really gone.
stephen. rl
I wish I could stick you in one. seal you off. shut you up. Render you helpless underneath all that dirt you tried to shovel in my mouth.
All in all, I wish you would just go away.
jaden
listen: right in
here
yes: right there
the night will
guide
presence will
allow
the rest will
tarry:
marry into your
dreams
bid them follow as
you, they;
time will match
the heart’s brimming
fever, appleheaded
wonder will be
your place,
applehearted wisdom will
be
your grace.
paschal
In a coffin lie his hopes for their future together, buried deep in a hole dug by hate and resentment; one for which they are both to blame.
Cara
Hey, now, don’t you worry. The coffin’s sinking into the dirt today. He won’t be staring at you anymore with those blank, blank eyes, the eyes his soul vacated days ago.
They’ll get that body out today, they’ll put him deep in the ground.
But you’ll still hear him whisper, won’t you? You’ll still feel those bony fingers touch your face. And now, don’t deny that you’ve been sleeping in his coffin, holding tight to one who’s already let go.
Gir-Gir
my friend josiah just had a car accident and cracked his skull and his brain was swollen and now his body is in a coffin underground but his soul is in heaven
botany
the dead bodies settle gracefully into holes dug to keep them away. keep them away from us–the living ones, you know. they can’t get us from up under there.
don’t worry about the dead. they won’t do you no harm. it’s the livin’ ones you have to worry about, now.
Gir-Gir
The room was warm, comfortably so. The temperature was in no way reflected by the woman in the front pew. She wore a look that would freeze Arizona. Of course, she blamed her daughter-in-law for the presenceof the cedar coffin at the front of the room.
Alicia
I woke up to the sounds of gunshots and went into the next room to find him emptying his handgun into the living room wall.
“Dammit kid,” I shouted once his clip was entirely, I assumed, embedded into the drywall. “Why the fuck would you shoot the wall!”
He glanced over his shoulder at me, his hair brushed into his eyes and sweat sliding down his temples. “Ghosts.” He clarified simply.
I stared at him in dumbstruck horror. “What the fuck do you mean ghosts? That’s your shadow, nimwit!” He looked back at the wall where yes, his shadowy figure was plain among the destruction and shrugged.
“Only one way to find out.” And he fired his last bullet right into the figure’s brain.
Tracy hated to cry. It was something she tried her best not to do. But sometimes, the tears just start up and continue until they overflow.
Her grandfather, laying their as if sleeping, made her think of strawberry fields and soap operas.
Christina
coffin? how morbid. i find myself thinking about dying more now than i ever have in my life. maybe it’s the mystery of how it’s going to end that compells me to ponder such a thing. i hope that when i die i feel as if i’ve learned everything i wanted to learn, and passed it on successfully. i hope that i give enough positive energy to the people around me so that my energy carrys on when i’m gone.
Stephanie Wilson
She looked into the coffin and thought about her father. He wouldn’t want her to feel like this. He wouldn’t want her to feel like she should be following him into that soft, muddy ground.
Her mother turned and looked her in the eyes.
“Sarah, it’s not your fault.”
Kelsey
“It’s a coffee coffin. Doesn’t it smell like it?” he thought as he stood in front of the wreath-laden coffin of his father, the coffee tycoon of the east. What a life he had led. What a life he did not want to follow.There was no way he was living his life smelling as such.
And all the living will die alone, in a coffin so dark only spirits can roam.
The coffin is the unierse way of saying we’ve made a device to prove we’ll all die eventually and that only god knows when and where, but we all know i’ll be waiting for us to bring us underground, possibly to above the clouds, but how would i no that right? i just live here on earth, alive, not near death, not near anything not. This is Death, life and Living right?
I see the coffin sitting there. Not knowing what to think I climb into it and close it. I stay in there for several minutes in the complete darkness, pondering…death itself. What if hell is that you wake up in your coffin and can’t get out?
Love is watching someone die
-“What Sarah Said” by Deatch Cab For Cutie
when i hear the word coffin, i immediately think of death, and this is one of my favourite lines from a song, so it kinda fit.
oh lord, where to start? this is where my body will spend more time than any other place that it has ever spent. it will know every knot in the wood, every nail, every grain of dirt clinging to the top, yet it will know nothing below it. why is it that we are buried facing up?
death is such a thing that people freak about sometimes. some hate it, some accept it. in either case, its a part of life that just has to happen. i would like to think that i accept it, and that i’m not really afraid of it. i live life like it’s my last, because you never know if it will be.
the coffin, my coffin was there mahogany wood with a fleur de lis on the lid. it was amazing. if i were still alive i would have picked it for myself. he loved me so much and he knew me so well, for the coffin was perfect. me inside, though, made him extremely sad. i wished it wasn’t so.
 Coffins are unfeeling, emotionless. Unable to decipher good, bad, rich or poor. there’s no bargaining, no extra credit, no second chances to correct or amend. An abyss.
No hopes. No dreams. Your storys been written. The universe said pencils down, the test is over. you’re to be judged by others, never knowing your final grade.
A dark, musty place where the victims of countless unnamed evils are sent to meet their doom. Who knows what lurks beneath the floors of the mortal world. A coffin is dark, a coffin is bleak, a celar of misery and despair that leaks pain, drips hatred and suffering. But a coffin is not the end. A coffin is the beginning…
In the warm night air he curled himself into a ball inside her bosom
long red hair tangled in heartstrings
she hummed him to sleep
and he could feel it murmur in his sternum
‘love love love’
Death. Rain all around me. i’m so Scared. Why Am I here waiting for the next moment to go by so that I can here your voice again. I miss you so much already and yet. I’m still trying to believe it. to take it in. Wow… it’s so new to me, you being gone.
Death. Rain all around me. i’m so Scared. Why Am I here waiting for the next moment to go by so that I can here your voice again. I miss you so much already and yet. I’m still trying to believe it. to take it in. Wow… it’s so new to me, you being gone.
Dead. The end.
Coffin.
My bed.
For my final sleep.
Not to wake up to find another day ahead of me.
Peace at last.
Forever. And ever.
Coffins make me thing sad thoughts about death and what was and what could have been. What happened to that person in their life, where have they been, what were their values?
vampires and dark rooms and dungens and bats and scooby doo mansions. red velvet and black painted wood and deppresion
That makes me scareed and nervous. I cant believe i got that word. ewwww. praise God from whom all blessings flow. God please be with me. <3
It was rather difficult to breathe in a coffin. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to be able to breathe anyhow – dead putting something of a damper on breathability. However, he often forgot this. Suspension of breath is a tough thing to remember to do, especially when playing dead in a solid, oak casket. It was cold down here, too; the other children must have given up searching for him. His breath frosted against the lid of his tomb and he hoped that they’d shout their failure soon, or he might actually die there. Now, that wasn’t something he wanted to think about. So he didn’t.
a moment of silence pls…
Coffin shopping was like an oxymoron.
Shopping implied something fun, getting something new, an activity to do with friends. The whole experience was fun. Going to the mall, trying things on, going into every store you see.
But coffin shopping was different.
It was kind of like jumbo shrimp.
Coffin shopping.
makes me think about death but that’s not the point. I have no time to think about that,I’m too busy trying to make my life work. I have three roommates who don’t take me seriously and i have a shitty job that I cant lose or else I will have no place to live. I cant think past tomorrow, because today is too important. I have no idea what I’m going to do if I fail at this, but that’s not the point either. I have to try. I refuse to let the fear of failure stop me from living, and more importantly, enjoying my life. I have to try, or else I will have nothing to admire about my own life. Because as scared as I am of failing and falling and having no place to live, I am more afraid of the fact that i may never be proud of anything in my life. And living on your own and making your life work when everything in the world tries to stop you is more impressive than any amount of money, any number of friends, or any prize that the world has to offer. I feel like i have no choice but to move forward. I cant give up, I refuse to. I want this. I want my own life. I will not give up on the idea. There is nothing you can do to make me. If you try to stop me I will put you down just like every other challenge that i have come across in the past.
It is never a part of our lives and we never took any care to arrange for it; but then it is in that we are going to live our lives after our death.
As I looked at the white plastic casing that held my cousin, I thought about how beautiful she was when she was living, and how she didn’t look the same in death. Her lips painted on, her eye’s closed like she was sleeping, the rest of the casing adorned with pictures of the Virgin Mary and her cheerleader attire.
I can’t help but to see the word coffin and think of my niece’s funeral when I was nine. She was five months old. This is not fiction. Her parents were sixteen and seventeen. Her father’s now in prison. I wonder if the two are connected?
And again, I cannot breathe, but I do not find the strength to scratch out of this hell. Instead, I remain motionless, attempting to decide just how much time I should give myself to determine whether the world on the other side is worth it.
So i was sitting in the church, trying to keep the tears from running down my face. It wasn’t as if i knew her that well… but i guess that is why it made it so sad. I never took the time to talk to her, just took for granted that she would always be there. So i stared at the white coffin, looked so pure, but so deadly and knew that i would never feel the bone crushing hug of my granma ever again.
My Mother always said that she liked the way that my Father tied his ties. He did it differently than anyone else she had ever seen – in reverse, kind of hard to understand, she always said. But he looked different this day, he wasn’t himself, his tie was tied in the regular fashion. She cried as they closed his coffin; her man was really gone.
I wish I could stick you in one. seal you off. shut you up. Render you helpless underneath all that dirt you tried to shovel in my mouth.
All in all, I wish you would just go away.
listen: right in
here
yes: right there
the night will
guide
presence will
allow
the rest will
tarry:
marry into your
dreams
bid them follow as
you, they;
time will match
the heart’s brimming
fever, appleheaded
wonder will be
your place,
applehearted wisdom will
be
your grace.
In a coffin lie his hopes for their future together, buried deep in a hole dug by hate and resentment; one for which they are both to blame.
Hey, now, don’t you worry. The coffin’s sinking into the dirt today. He won’t be staring at you anymore with those blank, blank eyes, the eyes his soul vacated days ago.
They’ll get that body out today, they’ll put him deep in the ground.
But you’ll still hear him whisper, won’t you? You’ll still feel those bony fingers touch your face. And now, don’t deny that you’ve been sleeping in his coffin, holding tight to one who’s already let go.
my friend josiah just had a car accident and cracked his skull and his brain was swollen and now his body is in a coffin underground but his soul is in heaven
the dead bodies settle gracefully into holes dug to keep them away. keep them away from us–the living ones, you know. they can’t get us from up under there.
don’t worry about the dead. they won’t do you no harm. it’s the livin’ ones you have to worry about, now.
The room was warm, comfortably so. The temperature was in no way reflected by the woman in the front pew. She wore a look that would freeze Arizona. Of course, she blamed her daughter-in-law for the presenceof the cedar coffin at the front of the room.
I woke up to the sounds of gunshots and went into the next room to find him emptying his handgun into the living room wall.
“Dammit kid,” I shouted once his clip was entirely, I assumed, embedded into the drywall. “Why the fuck would you shoot the wall!”
He glanced over his shoulder at me, his hair brushed into his eyes and sweat sliding down his temples. “Ghosts.” He clarified simply.
I stared at him in dumbstruck horror. “What the fuck do you mean ghosts? That’s your shadow, nimwit!” He looked back at the wall where yes, his shadowy figure was plain among the destruction and shrugged.
“Only one way to find out.” And he fired his last bullet right into the figure’s brain.
What my parents have nailed me into.
death, person, deceased, dead, wood, underground, cedar, pine, dirt, grass, cemetery, cremation, cremated, people, brown, solid, oak, lined, velvet
Tracy hated to cry. It was something she tried her best not to do. But sometimes, the tears just start up and continue until they overflow.
Her grandfather, laying their as if sleeping, made her think of strawberry fields and soap operas.
coffin? how morbid. i find myself thinking about dying more now than i ever have in my life. maybe it’s the mystery of how it’s going to end that compells me to ponder such a thing. i hope that when i die i feel as if i’ve learned everything i wanted to learn, and passed it on successfully. i hope that i give enough positive energy to the people around me so that my energy carrys on when i’m gone.
She looked into the coffin and thought about her father. He wouldn’t want her to feel like this. He wouldn’t want her to feel like she should be following him into that soft, muddy ground.
Her mother turned and looked her in the eyes.
“Sarah, it’s not your fault.”
“It’s a coffee coffin. Doesn’t it smell like it?” he thought as he stood in front of the wreath-laden coffin of his father, the coffee tycoon of the east. What a life he had led. What a life he did not want to follow.There was no way he was living his life smelling as such.